


Scientific

by GretaRama



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Cecil is Human, Chubby Carlos, M/M, No Tentacles, Phone Sex, Positive Cecilos Fic Drive, Voice Kink, okay it's porn but it's romantic, references to anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretaRama/pseuds/GretaRama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil makes Carlos feel really scientific. So very, very...scientific. There is so, so much science that he wants to do with Cecil. Here's how science got so sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientific

“How do we even get out of here?” Carlos asked, looking around the doorless room in which they had been served their portabello mushrooms and invisible cake. “Also, do you think we need to worry about our waiter? I don’t remember him being so…shadowy. Or buzzing like that.”

“I’m sure it’s all just part of the experience,” Cecil said, leaning across the table and whispering, “I don’t even remember how we got in here in the first place, do you?”

Carlos stared across the table. “Actually, no, I…”

“Oh, here’s the check,” Cecil quickly withdrew a scrap of paper that had just appeared atop the candle in the middle of the table and flapped out the flames with his napkin.

“Let me,” Carlos said. “It was my invitation.”

“No way.”

“Cecil…”

“Split it?”

Carlos suppressed a smile. “Fine. But my treat next time. How much?”

“I…actually have no idea,” Cecil held the ticket at arm’s length and peered through the lower portion of his lenses, squinting. Carlos felt his heart flip over in his chest in reaction to this endearing gesture, and missed several seconds of whatever his date was saying.

“…and they only taught _modified_ Sumerian when I was in school,” Cecil shrugged. “Let’s just wing it. If it’s not enough, I’m sure they’ll find a way to let us know.”

“Right, sure,” Carlos said, trying not to think about how the restaurant might decide to communicate displeasure at a perceived underpayment. He opened his wallet, calculated a 40% tip on his best guess at the tab, and handed a stack of bills to Cecil, who rolled them up with several of his own and lit them on fire. As the fire spread from the pile of flaming money to the tablecloth, the dark, buzzing blur that had been their waiter reappeared, set a large brick on the table, said, “Thank you for selecting Gino's Italian Dining Experience And Grill And Bar, gentlemen, I hope you’ll come see us again soon,” and vanished in a puff of inky fog. Several dead flies dropped to the floor where the waiter had been standing.

Cecil hefted the brick thoughtfully, handed it over to Carlos. “Would you like to do the honors?” he asked. “Only I think we should probably go now, since it doesn’t look like there’s a fire extinguisher anywhe- ow!”

Carlos hurled the brick through the plate glass window, then turned and held out one hand to Cecil. “Thank you,” Cecil said, accepting his hand as he stepped over the edge of the window and into the street. Moments later, they were walking in Mission Grove Park, watching the evening strollers screaming at the uncaring, ominously buzzing sky.

“You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” Carlos asked, taking Cecil’s elegantly long-fingered hand in his and examining it.

“I might have, just a little.”

“ _Pobrecito_ ,” Carlos murmured, kissing the hand gently, smiling as Cecil sighed at the endearment.

He had always found Cecil attractive, if a little eccentric in his dress and mannerisms. He was no longer quite young, but he could have been a few years either side of forty. He had a nice nose. Nice hands. Most importantly, he _liked_ him, liked him with a swift certainty he hadn't felt since childhood. This had already been one of the best dates he had ever been on, notwithstanding the bizarre restaurant and the looming, noisy darkness slowly encroaching on the town. The chemistry between the two of them was irresistible. Cecil was irresistible. Carlos was suddenly deeply, deeply tired of trying to withstand this pernicious attraction.

“If you want,” he said, a little nervously, “we could do some tests on the trees. I've been meaning to do some scientific tests on the trees. They seem normal, but given all that I've observed in this town, it is a significant chance that they are not.” He gestured at a copse of trees a little distance away from the busier part of the park.

“Tests?” Cecil asked. “What kind of tests?”

“You’ll see. Science is always easier to understand if you can witness a demonstration.”

They made their way into the trees and Carlos pointed at a large cottonwood. “Let’s try this one,” he said, leading Cecil under its spreading branches. They stood close, facing one another for a few seconds. Carlos reached up and removed Cecil's glasses, folding them gently and slipping them into his pocket. Then, with great deliberation, he took Cecil’s chin, tilted his head slightly, and pressed a kiss very softly to his lips. It was just the slightest pressure, nothing more than lips touching, but to Carlos it felt positively electric.

As they pulled apart, Carlos cocked his head to one side. “Well?” He said. “What do you think of this tree?”

Cecil’s eyes fluttered open and he bit his lower lip. “I think I need more…data,” he said. A pink flush stained the tops of his cheekbones. “I think we need to try the experiment again.”

“I think you might be right,” Carlos whispered, leaning forward again and closing his mouth over Cecil’s. This kiss lasted longer, and was more intense; Carlos rested his arms around Cecil’s waist and Cecil’s hands rose up to clasp Carlos’s shoulders.

“Well?” Carlos asked, a little winded. “Do you think you have enough information now?”

“I…” Cecil inhaled deeply. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to make that decision,” he said. “You’re the scientist.”

Carlos gave a little shrug. “A scientist is just a person who’s curious,” he said. “But you know, I’m thinking maybe we need to try that one over there,” he pointed to another tree, this one with a sharply bent trunk and branches that leaned heavily to one side.

This time Carlos stepped closer, pulling Cecil’s body hard against his own and eliciting a sharp intake of breath. He kissed him deeply, open-mouthed, groaning deep in his throat as he felt Cecil’s tongue against his lips. His hands went to Cecil’s face, his neck, his waist, and Cecil slowly leaned back against the tree, hands caressing Carlos’s face, sliding up under his lab coat and clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

They finally broke apart, gasping. “This tree is really good,” Cecil murmured. “I find myself feeling extremely curious. Extremely scientific.”

“Me too,” Carlos said. “I haven’t felt quite this scientific in a very long time.” The space between them vanished again, and Carlos was once again lost in the drugging sensations Cecil’s soft, warm mouth awakened in his own body.

It was several minutes before the buzzing sound permeated the hazy thrum of blood pounding in Carlos’s ears. He reluctantly broke the kiss, punctuating it with several briefer, shorter kisses that almost, almost overcame his willpower completely, and finally took a half step away.

“Cecil,” he said. “I think maybe something really bad is happening.”

One of Cecil’s eyebrows rose sharply. “I think something really good is happening,” he countered.

“Well, yeah,” Carlos said quickly, flustered. “Wow. A little too good, actually. Even better than I imagined…” he trailed off, caressing Cecil’s lower lip with his thumb. He forced himself to concentrate on the world outside the little bubble of sexual tension he and Cecil had created. “But I mean this whole menacing cloud of dark energy that’s slowly infiltrating the town.” He gestured to the looming darkness on the horizon.

“Oh, that,” Cecil said. “Well, yeah, probably. Obviously that’s pretty serious.”

Carlos removed Cecil’s glasses from his pocket, unfolded them, and tenderly replaced them on Cecil’s face. “We’ll have to come back to this test soon,” he said. “There are a lot more trees here. We might have to try them all, just to be sure.”

* * *

For weeks, he listened to Cecil on the radio, the smooth voice washing over him, distracting him with memories of that same voice talking just to him, no longer smooth but hoarse, ragged, whispering in his ear. _Carlos...so beautiful, your skin is so warm, it’s like chocolate if chocolate were alive, so velvety, so…hmmm, delicious._ Carlos switched the radio off so he could focus on his work. They had been on three dates, and they had agreed to try and take things slow. Slow was good. Slow was respectful, slow was reasonable, and slow was driving him insane.

That night, they went to a movie at the Old Town Theater, which had showed _Fitzcarraldo_ on every screen since one year prior to the film’s release date in 1982. The lobby was lined with posters for _Fitzcarraldo_ , all showing a close-up of Klaus Kinski’s deranged-looking face. A sign at the snack bar advertised prices for popcorn ($14.00), sodas, ($10.00), and the conquest of the useless ($25.00 or one human soul).

They had both seen the movie before, of course, everyone in Night Vale had. It didn’t matter, since they spent the entire time making out like teenagers in the back row, spilling their popcorn and giggling in the flickering darkness. They continued this happy activity in the car, but the interior was too small for anything other than kissing and groping, no matter how flexible and acrobatic the participants. The car had kept them honest over the course of the last few dates.

“Every time we do this,” Carlos said. “It gets harder and harder to stop.”

“Hmmm...how much harder?” Cecil whispered, his hands roaming, and that was it, Carlos was definitely done with restraint. He flung open his door just as Cecil did the same.

“Find my keys,” Carlos gasped between kisses when they finally managed to get to the front door. “They’re in my coat somewhere. That’s not my...oh…”

Cecil spent more delightful seconds searching, and Carlos finally had to help, fumbling the key into the door and swinging it open while Cecil’s hands were busy elsewhere.

The door slammed behind them and their momentum carried them toward one of the lab tables. Carlos swept aside a variety of beakers and scales as he urged Cecil up onto the edge of the table, stepping between his legs and wrapping his arms around the man’s lean torso, pressing urgent kisses into his neck. Cecil wrapped his long legs around Carlos’s hips and sank his fingers into Carlos’s hair, and Carlos gripped Cecil’s hips and ground against him, aching for the warm press of the other man’s arousal against his own. Cecil’s head sank back with the pleasure of it, and Carlos didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Soon, even this was not enough. “Too many clothes,” Cecil rasped. “Not enough hands.” He slipped Carlos’s coat over his shoulders, started on the buttons of his shirt.

Carlos felt a pang of self-consciousness as Cecil stripped away his flannel shirt and tugged his white t-shirt up over his belly and chest. Carlos was reasonably fit, but he didn’t believe in a life without some indulgence. He was comfortable with his appearance and was dismayed to discover that he was worried, suddenly and absurdly, that Cecil might be disappointed.

As usual, Cecil made everything better by talking. “Oh….I hardly know where to start,” he breathed, eyes widening. “There are these gorgeous broad shoulders, these strong arms, this chest…” his hands, shaking a little, alighted on Carlos’s chest and swept across its breadth. “Mmmm, then…oh, this little belly, it’s perfect," He kissed Carlos's middle with lavish tenderness. 

Carlos shrank away from his touch a little. “I should probably work out more,” he said, embarrassed.

“Why?” Cecil asked, sounding sincerely baffled and even a little outraged. He slipped off the edge of the table, pressed the length of his body against Carlos, and kissed him. It was forceful, pleading, and the two men slowly dropped down to their knees, lips still pressed together, until Carlos finally fell back onto the carpet, pulling Cecil down after him.

Cecil sat up, straddling Carlos's hips, and worked his way down Carlos’s body again with his hands and mouth. “I like that your belly isn't completely flat,” he said, caressing Carlos’s middle. “I like this softness. I like the shape of it, the way it feels, this little sign of vulnerability. You're perfect.” He kissed his way over it, around Carlos’s navel, down the lower slope, then lower still. “You’re hard everywhere else except here, did you know that?” He asked, hands tracing the slight round swell of belly and then moving lower, lower. “Hard chest, hard back, hard shoulders… mmm…hard right here…” Carlos felt liquid warmth pool deep in his groin, and he flushed all over with desire. “God, Cecil,” he groaned, squirming under the other man’s heated kisses.

“Is this okay?” Cecil asked, starting on the fly of Carlos’s trousers. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop?”

“Do. Not. Stop,” Carlos gritted between his teeth.

Cecil did not stop.

* * *

The sex was transcendentally pleasurable, but the closeness was even better. Later, when he was trapped – he liked to think of it as a research sabbatical, but in his heart he knew he was trapped, no matter how he tried to make the best of things – in the desert otherworld, he missed falling asleep in Cecil’s arms and waking up with Cecil’s tousled head on his chest. He missed Cecil bringing him coffee in bed, missed making their lunches and hiding notes in Cecil’s sandwich wrapper. He missed Cecil, and everything about the two of them together.

Still, he was a scientist for a reason, and part of him was thrilled by the prospect of exploring what seemed to be a parallel dimension. Never in his wildest imaginings had he dared to hope that such an opportunity would arise, and he took an unbridled delight in learning about the mysterious physics of this new world.

Also, the separation became easier when he realized he could call Cecil without worrying about his cell phone battery or Wi-Fi connection.

“We can still do things together, even in absence,” he told Cecil, the phone pressed to his ear. “All kinds of things.”

“It’s not the same,” Cecil said.

“Since when did we ever not do something just because it was a little different? That’s not a very Night Vale-ian sentiment.”

“You’re right,” Cecil said, brightening a little. “I suppose we're not the first people to have to cope with a long distance relationship.”

“Yeah...and even this is nice. I missed having your voice all to myself. It’s nice to hear you on the radio, but it’s not quite _my_ Cecil. Plus...I bet you can do all kinds of things with your voice, Cecil. All…kinds…of things.”

“What kinds of things did you have in mind?”

“What would you do if we were together – physically together – right now?”

“Oh. Oh! Well…whatever I did, it would be deeply, profoundly, warmly, wetly physical. I can tell you that much.”

“Oh," Carlos swallowed with a click. "Maybe...tell me what you’re thinking about right now?"

“I’m thinking about something we did in the break room,” Cecil admitted. “It was so dangerous.”

“That only made it better,” Carlos laughed.

“I can’t go in there without remembering,” Cecil said, sounding a little breathless. “I doubt the scorpions can forget, either.”

“I always wanted to do it in the studio,” Carlos said. “But there were too many interns around.”

“Really?” Cecil’s voice was deeper, hushed, very sexy. “Would you like to try it now?”

Carlos caught his breath. “I…might,” he said. “Are there any interns there now?”

“No, I sent them out to do some research. It’s just the two of us.”

“Mmm. Good," Carlos suddenly felt a little shy. "I'm not really sure how to do this, Cecil."

"Tell me what you'd like to do," Cecil almost whispered. "I'll just be right here, in my booth, with my headphones on, doing my job, totally unaware that anyone is watching me...other than the usual people who are watching us all."

"Okay, so..." Carlos said nervously. It was just words, he reminded himself. Just talking to Cecil. "Um...I’d probably wait until you switch over to the weather. Then I’d come up behind you, slide off the headphones, and nibble on your earlobe.”

“That always makes me so crazy,” Cecil said, with a little laugh. "Your breath in my ear and on my neck...it sends goosebumps all over my body. Like when you kiss me. Did you know I get goosebumps everywhere when you kiss me?"

“You’re such an amazing kisser, Cecil," Carlos heard his voice go rough and cleared his throat. "You give yourself up to it completely.”

“I can’t help it. Something about the way you kiss me makes my spine turn to mush. And all the blood drains out of my head to go other places. I get so turned on, even just thinking about the way you kiss, the way your hands feel on me, the way your eyes go all dark and you get very, very focused.”

“Um..those interns could come back at any moment.”

“We-ell…to be honest, it’s pretty unusual for any of the interns to make it back from their assignments.”

“That's true...”

“But you're right," Cecil added, "You never know who might turn up at the station. People stop by all the time."

"They do," Carlos said, and now he was starting to feel himself stirring.

"If you were kissing me right now, and touching me, untucking my shirt and putting your hands inside...what would I do? I'd definitely want my hands on your ass, that goes without saying, at least for a little while. It's _incredible._ I'm amazed you can go anywhere without people groping you, I really am. Maybe then I'd let one hand slip between your legs, see how hard you are, and see if I could make you even harder. I'd be gentle, but there would be just enough pressure to get you to make that little noise I like. That noise that tells me I'm on the right track..."

"That...would be nice," Carlos said. He closed his eyes and adjusted his grip on the phone and whispered, "Please keep talking, Cecil."

"Hmm. ..now you're sliding your leg between mine, rubbing up against me...there's something about when you do that, like you know that I want you, like you're just holding back a little because you know it's going to make me want you even more. Sometimes I'm a little embarrassed by how ready I am, how wanting I am, all the time. Like I am, right now. But really, it's every time, Carlos. I just... _want_ you, so much, every single time. I should be embarrassed, I guess, I'm such a wanton for it, but you want me, too, don't you?"

"Like that time in the park, with the trees. God, Cecil. That first time I kissed you...I don't think I ever told you how much that undid me. If it hadn't been for that dark energy fog I'd have had you up against that tree."

"Oh," Cecil's voice is husky now, and Carlos feels like he's there, his hands on Cecil, kissing him, breathless and desperate. "Well, I'm not going to let you take control this time. I'd take your hands, back you up against the wall. Kiss you again, take my time, enjoy it. I could do that for hours. I'd let my hands go wherever they wanted, caressing you, touching your chest and your belly, your cock... you're so hot and hard and when I touch you like this, you can't help but move against me, like you want the friction, like you just can't wait...but it's not quite enough, is it? Maybe I should...”

Carlos felt his heart hammering and his blood pounding, his cock aching in response to the mental imagery Cecil was conjuring. His hand found his aroused flesh and he grasped himself in aching desperation. “Cecil,” he gasped.

“Carlos,” Cecil panted. “This is so...it's actually wonderful to be able to talk to you about this. I usually can't tell you how much I love it. Are you...? Are you as turned on as I am? Am I making you want to touch yourself? I can't help it, I have to, even though my hand isn't anything like as good as yours...I would be even if you were here. I'd be on my knees in front of you, but you're so beautiful, I wouldn't be able to help it. I'm so turned on, it would take almost nothing to send me over the edge." His breath was audible, coming a little faster and harder. "We're in a public place," he whispered. "But I just have to have your cock in my mouth, no matter how risky it is. I slide my hand inside and find you, pull your jeans and boxers down, lick you and kiss you, then finally I'd...I'd take you in deeper. Do you like it when I do this? I love the way you taste, how you feel inside my mouth. I love the way your skin feels, how soft it is, the way I can make your whole body jerk just by flicking my tongue against you. I love the noises you make, the little groans and gasps that tell me how good this feels. It must feel very, very, _very_ good, the way you're arching into it now, the way you're breathing so hard and begging me not to stop, the way your hips are moving, and I know you like it when I use my hands just here..."

Carlos felt his orgasm rushing toward the brink, and he couldn't believe he was about to come this hard just from a description of physical contact.

“Wait, please, not yet," Cecil said, his voice suddenly a little sharper, and Carlos just barely gets the brakes on. "I'd take my mouth away. I wouldn't want to; it would be...hard. But I...I miss having you inside me. Can you wait just a little longer? Could we...? Right here on this table? You'd be so hot and eager for it, you'd bend me over the table, your hand on the nape of my neck, firm and gentle, and I'd be...well, I'd probably be the one begging for it, if I'm being honest. I feel you behind me, touching me, stretching me with your fingers, and oh, _god_ , there are nerves inside me that actually jump when you touch me this way. Not to ruin the mood, but let's pretend I keep condoms and lube in a desk drawer nearby, hmm? And now we'll mention them no more. You're gentle, you're going so slow and we're both shaking with the suspense, and I'm grinding on this table, so _desperate_ , and _god_ I just want you to go faster, but you don't want to hurt me. I'm pushing back against you, and...oh, you're whispering in my ear, telling me you know how much I wanted it. How much I needed it, how good it feels..." He let out an explosive breath, then hissed in through his teeth, and Carlos _knew_ that sound, it was the exact sound that Cecil always made when - 

"Cecil, I don't think I can..."

"You’re holding my hips and pulling me back against you so hard, and you’re hitting that place, over and over again, and it’s almost too much for me, I’m up against the hard table and the friction…oh my god, please don’t stop, _please_ don’t stop….I c-can't...Carlos, it’s so, so, _so_ good…”

For at least a minute, there was nothing but heavy breathing on the line. Carlos held the image of Cecil in his mind, his body stretched out on the table, the slight flush of arousal moving across his skin. The sound of his voice seemed so close, and his partner’s gasps sent little frissons shooting up and down his spine as he came with a sharp cry that echoed in the stony canyon where he lay.

Afterward, they were both quiet, not speaking but not breaking the connection, and they both feel asleep with the line open, a pinhole in whatever blockade in time and space was keeping them apart.

* * *

Interdimensional phone sex was good, or at least better than nothing, although they both agreed that without interdimensional phone cuddling as a follow-up, it was an ultimately lonely experience. When Carlos discovered the lighthouse, they tried astrally-projected sex, but that was even more unfulfilling, the additional of each other’s visual presence making the absence of touch even more of a problem. Cecil kept reaching out for him, and he kept trying to interlace his fingers with those of his lover and being distracted as their two selves failed to connect.

“I’m enjoying looking at you, anyway,” Cecil said, after they finally gave up. He was sitting up in bed, flushed and a little rumpled in the dim light of the bedside lamp. “It makes me feel so much better to know that you’re really alive and well, that you’re still my Carlos, and that you’re doing something that you really love. Your sense of adventure is one of the things I love about you, and I don’t want to change it.”

“Your affection for Night Vale is one of the things I love most about you,” Carlos told him, his flickering form smiling.

“I just wish we could find a way to have a life that was as physically fulfilling as it was professionally satisfying,” Cecil said, stretching out one hand, remembering that he couldn’t hold hands with Carlos anymore, and letting it fall forlornly at his side.

“Me too, _cariño_. I’m trying, I really am.” And he was. He tried not to make too much of the old oak doors, since these mysterious portals were partly responsible for keeping him away from Night Vale in the first place, but he was constantly looking for ways to either return to Cecil or somehow get Cecil through a portal to visit him. The desert otherworld was a big place, though, and there were many distractions.

“I know. And I’ve finally completed my essay for my request for time off. I’ll submit it tomorrow.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, tapped his hand across the nightstand in search of his glasses and set them back on his nose. He looked weary, the curiosity that brought light and an infectious youthful energy to his face gone. Carlos felt miserable.

There was a long silence. “I’m sorry this didn’t work. I hate going to bed feeling like I’ve created even more frustration for both of us,” Carlos said. “I wish there were something I could do to feel closer to you.”

“Well,” Cecil said, brightening a little. “Maybe you could just call me? It’s too hard, being able to look at you but not touch you, but the phone is okay. Better than okay.”

Carlos watched as Cecil bit his lip, his hand tightening on his cell phone. “Give me just a minute,” he said, his mood lifting. He left the lighthouse and dialed Cecil’s number.

“Better than okay?” he asked.

“Much better than okay.”

“How much better?”

“So much better that I just started feeling really…scientific.”

“Oh…well, you know, I’m really into science.”

“I’m also very into science these days.”

“So...where are we and what are we doing?” Carlos asked.

"Do you remember that one time we were watching _The Magnificent Seven_ and you got called away in the middle of it, just when things were starting to get really good?” said Cecil.

“I do remember that,” Carlos said. "I was sorry to have to go just then."

"Mmmm, let's pick up where we left off that night. I was working up to something really filthy and satisfying. So right now, I’m cuddling up against you. Have you lost a little weight in the desert?”

“A little.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that. I like the way your body feels, warm and just the littlest bit soft.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“It’s not my fault, it’s the Lyme disease,” Cecil protested.

“You can take me out for pancakes as soon as we’re together again,” Carlos promised. “I could eat about a hundred pancakes. All they have here is some sort of stewed root vegetables and tapioca pudding.”

“The diner is doing really amazing things with gluten-free pancakes,” Cecil said. He hesitated. "I can't wait until we're together again."

“Cecil?” Carlos said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” They continued on, two disembodied voices making love to one another in the void, through the kind offices of an unknown cell tower and two exceptionally vivid imaginations.


End file.
